


Dear Fellow Traveler

by Preelikeswriting



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Magic AU, except there is magic, just no hogwarts and wizarding world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26176858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preelikeswriting/pseuds/Preelikeswriting
Summary: Lord Hohenheim is coming to Malfoy Manor for a visit, and Draco has unfinished business with his son.Medieval Au - Fluff with just a bit of plot(Not a part of my “Through the Gate” series)
Relationships: Edward Elric/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81





	Dear Fellow Traveler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinygrunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygrunt/gifts).



> Happy Birthday tinygrunt! here's some Edward/Draco content courtesy of your friend ignifex over on Tumblr!

Draco kept his head down as he sat across from his mother in the great hall. Lucius was seething from the head of the table and Draco didn't dare to make any sudden moves. Publicly of course nothing had happened, all was calm and good within the house of Malfoy, all of them living together in aristocratic bliss. However, you would have to be blind to believe that lie.

One of his father's smugglers, a man Draco had only ever heard referred to as Wormtail, had been lifted late the previous night. The idiot had gotten himself caught practically in the king’s backyard. While there would be no evidence to tie Wormtail back to his father, at least for a while, there would be fewer men willing to take the same risk for him.

Draco didn’t know why his father sought out the things he did, not really. The curse tomes, and objects he secreted into the kingdom under the cover of night, were, in Draco's opinion, nothing but an unnecessary risk. The discovery of a stockpile like his father possessed would easily be a death sentence for them all. But still, his father gathered them.

Magic had been carefully regulated for as long as Draco could remember, the result of Lord Voldemort’s attempt to overthrow the king and reshape life as they knew it. An Attempt, that only the king himself seemed unaware his parents had supported.

So maybe it wasn’t fair to say that Draco didn’t know why his father collected those things. Maybe it was better to say that he didn’t want to know. As far as he was aware, his family had nothing to gain, and everything to lose by clinging to the failed aspirations of a dead man.

They had survived his shadow once, there was no need to tempt fate again.

The door to the hall swung open, and a servant wearing the family crest of silver and green entered the room. In his hand, he carried a thick letter and Draco felt his heart stutter as his eye caught sight of the gold and red seal on the back. He set his spoon down, too tense to eat, and met his mother’s eyes across the table. 

Draco didn’t dare glance his father’s way as the thick paper rustled in his hands. He heard his father hum and the letter was passed back to the servant almost dismissively. Draco dared to hope as the young man bowed and hurried out of the room.

For a moment, Draco though his father wouldn’t say anything at all, content to keep them in suspense. But as the door shut loudly behind the servant, Lucius set his goblet down with a solid thud. “Von Hohenheim is coming for a visit," He said, his eyes scanning over Draco and his mother, "and he will be bringing his sons.”

Draco pressed his hands against the dark wood of the table, his fingers splayed outward evenly as he fought back the confusing wave of emotions that overtook him. Across from him, his mother hummed politely in response. “It is good to hear that Alphonse is strong enough to travel again,” She said, “with how quickly the illness took Trisha…" She trailed off, "Well, he has always been a frail thing.”

“Did the letter say anything of his state?” Draco asked carefully, balancing his words on the knife's edge of polite concern and professional indifference. Indifference, as if he hadn’t spent months at school watching Edward spiral deeper and deeper into despair with every letter he received. As if he hadn’t watched as Edward’s fear soured into hatred for his absent father, and into angry letters begging permission to go home. Until, of course, Ed had stopped waiting for permission and had simply left.

Draco tried not to feel hurt by that. He knew it wasn’t personal, that Ed had far larger concerns than… whatever it was between them. Regardless though, he saw Ed’s empty bed in his dreams far more than he cared to admit.

Lucius turned back to his food dismissively, “Nothing more explicit than to confirm that the boy lives,”

Draco nodded and turned back to his food. He tried to eat, really, but try as he might, nothing that passed his lips was any more appealing than dry sawdust. After a few moments, he set his silverware aside and asked to be excused. His father waved him away with little more than a flick of his wrist, content to wallow in his dark mood without Draco’s presence.

For the next few weeks, Draco’s thoughts rarely drifted far from the impending arrival of their guests. He had been possessed by a biting anxiousness that grew with each passing day. He wanted- well, that was exactly the problem wasn’t it? He didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know what to expect.

Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by the memories. Edward’s fingers interwoven with his own, the sight his golden eyes inches from Draco’s own. Stolen moments between classes, and after-hours that never really went anywhere- never past the point of no return- but each time harder to pull away from than the last. Until it was just- done.

It wasn’t good how they had left things. Draco had been selfish, he hadn’t wanted Ed to leave. He’d been scared, that if they were separated then that he would lose that something that had been building between them for months. That Ed would wake up and realize that he wanted nothing to do with him. So he’d been selfish, Ed had left anyway, and Draco’s heart had broken apart under the weight of his own mistakes.

He was scared again. Of Ed, of if Ed rejected him- of even if Ed let them start over. Because this wasn’t- He wasn’t supposed to do this. Neither of them were. Draco had responsibilities, to his family, to his house, and so did Ed. A bastard he may have been, but Ed was Lord Hohenheim’s heir apparent, there just wasn’t- they couldn’t do this. 

But they had, or almost had, and he wanted to. More than he had perhaps wanted anything before in his entire life. He wanted whatever it was that had grown unnamed between the two of them at school.

So, when he heard the sound of an approaching carriage late one night, he waited only long enough to glance out his window and confirm his suspicions. Draco threw on a thin robe and crept down the long dark stairway to the basement library to wait. 

The shadows clung to the stacks as the small candle he held flickered in the draft. He hadn’t been down here in ages, never having developed a particular love of books. But this had been their spot as children, long before there had been anything more than friendship between them. They had taken refuge together outside the realm of either of his parents, tucked away in the depths of the manor. If Edward wanted to find him, to see him, this was the only place to look.

As he waited, Draco could feel himself drifting off, the late hour chiseling away at his resolve. He had nearly decided to give up his vigil when the flame of the candle jerked suddenly. The sudden shift in air current could only mean that the library door had been opened. And, with a sort of cautious anticipation, Draco climbed his feet to wait.

His breath caught as Ed rounded the corner. He looked… tired. There were deep bags under his eyes, and his usual braid had been forgone in the place of a low ponytail. Even still, at the sight of Draco standing there, his lips curled into the wide smile of a man far less acquainted with tragedy than he knew Ed to be.

“Ed,” He breathed, the familiar nickname spilling out without a second thought, “I wasn’t sure you would come,” Draco shook his head, “No, that’s not- how is Alphonse?” He asked, “Is he alright?”

“Al’s fine,” Ed said, “He’s…” he hesitated, “let's just say it’s going to be an adjustment. Though, better an adjustment than… well, you know,”

Draco nodded rapidly, stepping towards the other boy, “I’m so sorry about your mother Ed, I- I know how much she meant to you. When I heard-”

A pained look flashed across Ed’s face, and it was almost as if Draco could see the dark bruises under his eyes turning a deeper purple.

Trisha Elric had been alive the night Ed had left, or at least she had been by the writing of the letter he had received, the one that had finally spurred him to action. Draco had heard she was dead through one of their professors. It seemed Von Hohenheim had managed to stir up enough compassion in his immortal soul to call his son home to see her buried. The administration had then been forced to awkwardly explain to the man that his son was long gone.

“The Bastard wasn’t even there,” Ed said bitterly, “Al wrote to him, it took him weeks to come home. He wasn’t even that far away,” He trailed off. “I had to carry Al to the graveyard, and he wanted to wait, wanted the priest to wait, but the bastard never came.”

“I know that I- '' Draco swallowed harshly, “I spent so long trying to convince you not to go, and, I just need you to know that I am so sorry for that. I never should have-”

Ed waved his hand and cut him off, “-It’s alright Draco. I mean,” he shrugged weakly, “you were right, I couldn’t have fought the sickness for her, and I probably would have just ended up getting sick too. Would be no use to anyone then,”

“Ed…”

“It’s true, I mean, the bastard is getting us naturalized. That’s why we’re passing through- Edward Hohenheim, what do you think of that?” Ed wiggled his eyebrows like that wasn’t everything he’d been rebelling against since they were children. “Inheritance, better apartments in the manor, what’s not to love? If I had gotten sick too, what would have stopped him from writing the two of us off entirely?"

Draco didn’t like the note in Ed’s voice. It sounded mean and borderline hysterical, nothing like the good-natured intelligence he was used to. Without thinking, he reached out a snagged Ed’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

Ed’s gaze dropped to rest on where they were intertwined, and he nodded slowly in that way he did when he was considering about a million things beyond Draco’s comprehension. “I think that’s enough about me,” He said, softly, “How are you, Draco?”

He had to fight back a shiver when Ed said his name, it never sounded harsh on his lips. “I’m fine,” he said, “My father is in a mood, one of his… associates got lifted, but the manor is big enough to avoid him outside of meals. And my mother is…”

“Scheming? Mysterious? Plotting to kill him and dispose of his body?” Ed offered playfully, his voice still soft, still warm.

“Is still my mother,” Draco finished, “I- I missed you, these last few months,”

Ed squeezed his hand until it almost hurt, “I did too.” He hesitated, “I imagine you’re pretty pissed at me, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“For,” he waved his hand, “disappearing like that. Middle of the night, no note and all that,”

Draco shook his head, “I wasn’t- I don’t have any right to be mad at you about that,”

“Sure you do,” He squeezed again and leaned in, close enough that Draco could feel the warmth of Edward’s breath, “Of course you do,”

“I-” 

The candle flickered sharply where Draco had left it, having burned down much lower than he’d thought it had.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Ed said, pulling away and dropping Draco’s hand. Instead, he offered Draco his elbow with a cocky grin, Draco shoved him away.

They walked in silence through the sprawling halls, Draco tugging him this way and that on the occasions that Ed’s memory of the manor’s layout faltered. Finally, they came to rest outside the door to Draco’s quarters. The door seemed imposing in the limited light. The candle, mostly burnt out, cast it’s light off the stones sharply.

They stood there staring at one another, inches away from each other. Ed looked… magical. More so than any artifact his father had ever smuggled away, more so than any performance Draco had ever seen in court, he just glowed. 

They swayed towards one another.

“Goodnight,” Ed whispered, leaning in and brushing his lips lightly against Draco’s cheek.

He shuddered and Ed smiled faintly as he began to pull away.

“Wait!” Draco jerked his hand up sharply to cover his mouth, shocked by his own sudden volume. Ed turned back, a look on his face that Draco couldn’t categorize. He reached out and latched onto the sleeve of Ed’s traveling coat that he still wore. “Wait, please,”

And Ed waited. Draco forced himself to open his mouth again, “Please- Can you stay here? With me. Tonight,”

Draco watched as Ed's face warmed. Slowly at first and then all together sudden, he reached up and cupped Draco’s face in his hand, pulling him down into a firm kiss, “I’ll stay for as long as you like,”

Draco couldn’t help the grin that split his face as he fumbled behind himself for the handle to the door. Ed knocked into him playfully so that as the door unlatched they stumbled backward into Draco’s sprawling apartment.

“Oh fuck,” Draco laughed, as his leg caught the edge of a truck near the entrance.

“You okay?” Ed asked into the crook of his neck, as Draco tried to forcibly peel Ed’s coat off his back.

“We should- uh, the bed- we should go over there,” Draco gasped, “Before we break something,”

Ed pulled away, finishing Draco’s mission, and tossing his coat over the table not far from them. He reached down and unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt, as Draco caught his breath.

Draco knew Ed, and knew that tonight this wasn't going to end in anything more graphic than spooning. There were still enough things between them that still needed to be sorted and talked though before they went any further than that. But it didn’t matter. 

Tonight they would be happy. Everything else was for the morning.


End file.
